Chapter Seven
Care Package
Tyr
One of the great things about my relationship with Romeo was that I never had to tell him when he screwed up.
Nevertheless the moment he walked through my office door, I held up a hand to forestall any dumbass mea culpas he was about to launch into.
“All you have to do,” I said in a deliberately even tone so he wouldn’t know how close I was to breaking his neck, “is take a breath the next time you get a bright idea that somehow involves Ginger. Then hold that breath until you pass the fuck out. I’ll take that as a sign that you wanted to do something monumentally stupid that would never work anyway, because Ginger Sisko is all the loose cannons that have ever been, so she’ll never follow any plan you come up with. Clear?”
“Crystal.” Romeo took that all-important breath. “Did you get the gist of what my plan was?”
“You wanted Ginger to walk into the lion’s den and appeal to Hades’s ego by asking for his help or support or whatever, thereby installing her as our spy on the inside.”
“Exactly. Sort of like what they’re trying to do with Yoyo.”
I grimaced at the mere mention of the young nymphomaniac that had been haunting the Gravedigger Clubhouse for the past month. I had some ideas on how she could be used, but I needed to wait until Yoyo approached me. “It’d never work.”
“Why not? Ginger is a woman, and one of Hades’s weaknesses is that he’s too much of a chauvinist to ever be able to clock a woman as a threat to him.”
“True, but that’s beside the point, Romeo.”
“So what is the point?”
“Ginger would try to murder him—and fail—before the first sunset was done. She rushes into the breach whenever she feels threatened,” I added when my second in command opened his mouth. “She was taught from a very young age that violence can be the answer to pretty much every life situation there is, especially when she’s cornered. And then there’s the fact that Hades scares the hell out of her. You might think you know her—hell, you might even believe she’s wired just like every other human being you know. But here’s a news flash for you, brother. She’s not. Respect how abnormal that brain of hers is, and think of another way to get to H. Without Ginger. Tell me you’re hearing me on this.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Romeo nodded and dragged a hand through his hair. “I’ll go over every inch of Hades’s history, as well as his current business interests to see if I can come up with some other pothole I can put in his path. Hell, maybe we can even SWAT him to see what kind of response he’s got in store security-wise.”
“He’s done that to us, so turnabout’s fair play.”
“There’s something else I need to talk to you about.”
“I’m all ears.”
Romeo paused long enough to press a hand to the office door to make sure it was closed all the way and we had absolute privacy. “Last night, the cams at Ginger’s warehouse went offline.”
I crossed my arms. “Do tell.”
“It happened a little before midnight. Then they were turned back on just before dawn this morning.” He waited a beat, as if expecting me to fill in the silence. When I disappointed him, he gave me a hard look. “It wasn’t a glitch.”
“I believe you.”
“The cams were deliberately turned off, Tyr.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Remotely.”
“Okay.”
“It was you.”
There were times—like trying to give your chief of security and best friend plausible deniability, for instance—when silence was golden.
Romeo rolled his eyes. “Look, Tyr, I don’t give a damn what you and Ginger have going on—”
“Nothing.” My voice hardened to steel, cutting through the air like the knife it was. Now more than ever, he needed to know I wasn’t fucking around. “Officially the word is that Ginger and I hate each other, just like always.”
“I know what the official word is, for fuck’s sake, and believe me, everyone buys it. Everyone knows that the sky is up, water’s wet, and you and Ginger hate each other, and the only reason you tolerate each other’s presence is because you’re stronger together while Hades is still breathing.”
“Exactly.”
“But I’m your chief of security, goddamn it. That means I know there are only two people who have kill switches on those cameras—you and me. And since I know I didn’t turn them off, that means you did. And since I know you’d never leave her unsupervised, that means you were there at the warehouse to keep an eye on her. Don’t tell me any details,” he added sharply, holding up a hand when I opened my mouth. “Swear to Christ, I’m not some gossipy bitch wanting all the tea, so do us both a favor and keep your shit to yourself. Just understand that from a security standpoint, I need to know what to expect so I can do my job to the best of my ability. I would’ve played things way differently yesterday if I had known what was going on between the two of you.”
“There’s nothing going on between us.” Then the reality of the situation hit me, and I realized Romeo was right. From a security standpoint, he needed to know every possible vulnerability. “Yet.”
Another thing I liked about Romeo—he took his time chewing on new facts and considering all the potential problems before speaking. “Ever since Marvel died and Hades announced things weren’t over at Arthur’s funeral, I’ve made sure I always have eyes on Ginger. You know that, yeah?”
“Yeah.” I’d have his fucking head if he didn’t.
“She went out last night with Roxie.”
“I know. To Lush.” She was such a funny drunk.
“She met someone last night.”
Every muscle in my body locked. It was the only way to stop myself from grabbing Romeo by his cut and shaking him. “Who?”
“Don’t have a name yet, but something about this guy bugs me. He looks like he’s from the life.” My friend took out his ever-present phone and tapped it a few times. A second later my phone buzzed silently in my back pocket. “We got some good shots of him. Does he look familiar to you?”
I fished my phone out in record time, opened the text app and frowned down at the photos Romeo had sent. No doubt about it. This guy was definitely a brother of the road. “I’ve never seen him. Nomad, maybe?”
“Could be. I mean, the final rally of the season’s coming up, so we’re already getting lots of new faces popping up. Enough, anyway, to make every one of my security-minded nerves twitch. But this guy still bothers me. Of all the places for him to be and of all the people for him to meet, he shows up at Lush—not exactly a biker hangout, with all those girlie drinks they serve—and he runs across Ginger. That’s put him on my radar.”
“Mine too.” I looked up at Romeo with hard eyes. “I need to know who this fucker is.”
“I’ve got facial recognition software working on it now. If he’s been in the system, we’ll find him.”
“He’s got tats on his hands, maybe from prison. I can’t tell for sure.” What I could tell was that those tattooed hands couldn’t seem to stop touching Ginger, if the photos were any indication. Reaching for her injured hand. Curling his fingers around hers. Leaning into her personal space and putting his face right up against her head to… what? Breathe in her honeysuckle and baby powder scent? Whisper something to her? Caress her? Kiss her?
A sharp crack sounded in the silence of the room, coming from the phone I held. It’s camouflage plastic case fell apart, with the biggest chunk of it falling to the floor. We both pondered the broken piece for a moment before Romeo shifted.
“As soon as I know who this guy is, I’ll let you know.”
“Good, thanks.”
“In the meantime, if you’re going to turn off cams, text me first. That way I won’t shit kittens when it happens.”
“I’ll do my best.” I watched Romeo shut the office door behind him, then picked up the broken piece of phone case and pitched it all into the waste basket by my desk. I had a shit-ton of work to do; I needed to go over the final preparations of how we were going to provide for all the Gravedigger chapters coming in for the rally. I also needed to hit the gym, because now was not the time to slack off on being battle-ready.
But did I do any of that?
Hell, no.
Phone in hand, I perched my ass against the edge of my desk and studied the pictures of the unknown nomad daring to touch what was mine. It took nearly a minute for me to force my attention on to something else.
Sort of.
I opened the security cam views that Romeo’s team had installed inside Ginger’s place while she was at work yesterday, and zeroed in on the one with a hint of movement on it. I tapped the screen, and suddenly there was Ginger, in all her redheaded glory, shuffling out of the bathroom in a thick terry robe and slicked-back wet hair.
“Fresh from a shower, are we? Must not be too hungover.” As I watched her move toward her unmade bed, I could only wish there were such a thing as smell-o-vision. I could just imagine breathing in all that clean honeysuckle goodness that had to be surrounding her like a scented cloud straight from heaven itself. Then she plopped onto the edge of the bed, huddled deeper into the robe, and keeled over sideways to bury her head in the pillow.
Whoops.
Okay, so maybe the hangover was worse than I thought.
Sliding the image aside for a moment, I hit the phone app. “Hey, she’s up. Go ahead and deliver it, but don’t let her see who you are.” I hung up and switched back to my favorite view, and grinned at the screen when I heard the bell ring.
“Death,” Ginger declared succinctly before she dragged herself toward the stairs. “Murder. Decapitation. I’ll eat your fucking liver, whoever you are, dead man.”
Haha. She was so hilarious.
She might have been hungover and pissy, but she was still the person who grew up in a world of violence and fully expected said violence to be waiting for her around every corner. Before she got to the sliding front door, she plucked up a baseball bat out of an umbrella stand nearby. Then she rested it on her shoulder, took a deep breath and hit the button on a security screen by the door that I’d insisted be installed before she moved in. “ Whaaaat? !”
I burst out laughing. Honest to fucking God, Hollywood needed to make a sitcom out of her life.
“Uh… Delivery. Ginger Sisko.”
“Delivery?” Her tone carried the weight of a thousand question marks. “I didn’t order anything.”
“Not my problem, lady. I’m leaving it on the doorstep.”
“Whatever. Oh, and, um… sorry I yelled. Thank you.”
Aww. No matter how surly she got, her true marshmallow-y self always came out in the end. That more than anything convinced me that deep down, Ginger wanted to be a good girl.
My good girl.
She didn’t move, watching the screen and clearly waiting until she felt safe enough to haul open the sliding door. I thoroughly approved of her caution. When she was calm, she was smart and reasonable and as rock-steady as a combat veteran. It was only when she got freaked out that she seemed to lose all damn sense and suddenly thought she was fucking invincible.
She retrieved the box, locked the door and lost the bat, then moved deeper into the loft. I switched camera angles as she settled at the granite-topped kitchen island, chuckled again at her wince when she turned on the overhead light, and opened the box.
“What the…” Her expression was a masterpiece of bewilderment when she pulled out a dark pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses.
Then a bottle of Tylenol.
A box of Alka Seltzer.
A small bottle of the blue Gatorade.
A large bottle of Fiji water, her favorite.
Breath mints.
Saltine crackers.
Vanilla pudding cups.
A couple bananas.
Once all the items were laid out on the counter, she stared at them for nearly a minute, and I could almost see the smoke coming out of her ears as she tried to figure it all out. Unsurprisingly she grabbed the box and turned it over and over, clearly in search of the sender’s name. When she came up empty, she went to her forgotten purse from the night before, dug out her phone, let out a heartfelt, “Fuck!” before grabbing up a charger, plugged it in at the island, then plugged in her phone. Then she put it to her ear and waited.
“Hey, girlie.”
Roxie. Had to be.
“Yeah, I know it’s early and I know you’re probably feeling as rough as I am right now, but I need to know something. You didn’t happen to send me a… well, a kind of hangover care package, did you?” She frowned as she listened to her friend, then pulled the phone away from her ear to give it a baffled look, making me chuckle again. Roxie had to be reading her the riot act. “Okay, but before you hang up on me, two things. One, it was your idea we hit Lush in the middle of the week, so it’s not my fault you’re this hungover, and two, that Red Flag guy you introduced me to last night… you didn’t happen to give him my physical address so that he could send me a hangover care package, did you?”
Red Flag.
Road name, or someone who triggered internal red flags in her?
It didn’t matter. I’d know everything about him soon enough.
“Wait, what do you mean, he could be a psycho ax murderer? I thought you said he was Olive’s brother. Okay, okay,” she went on in a placating tone while rubbing her brow with her free hand. Then she plucked up the Ray-Bans and slid them on. Not only did she look instantly fucking hot, but her sigh of relief was straight-up adorable. “You’re right, just because he’s Olive’s brother doesn’t mean he can’t also be a psycho ax murderer. For sure, he could be a multitasker, so thank you very much for not sharing my address with him. Tell you what, why don’t you go back to sleep and don’t come into the shop until after lunch? I’m not even sure I’m going to be in until after lunch myself. Right. Okay, bye.”
She set the phone aside, stared at the contents of the box spread out over the counter, then snagged the phone up again. A second later my phone rang, and the image on my screen fuzzed out as a name popped up under the number.
Ginger.
My smile felt downright evil as I hit the right button. “Isn’t this a little early for you?”
“I don’t even know what time it is.”
Heh. “Eight-ish. Did you want something from me, Snap, or did you need to hear the sound of my voice first thing in the morning, just so you could get your day started off right?”
I would have given my Harley to see her face as she sputtered. “I… what? No! Just, I… no, don’t be ridiculous. Geez. Why is it we can never have a normal conversation?”
“What’s your idea of a normal conversation?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a hi-how-are-you kind of thing. But that’s beside the point. The reason I called is because I have a question, and it’s probably going to sound a little strange.”
Oh, this was too fucking delicious for words. “So in other words, not a normal conversation?”
Her growl was pure comedy. “I guess.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“Look, I know this is probably just a random shot in the dark, but, um… You didn’t send me anything like a… a care package? Not that I think you actually care ,” she added hastily before I could even open my mouth. “And you know what? Now that I think about it, I don’t think it was you. Because you don’t care—not about me or my health. Not to mention you had no clue I would need a care package like the one I got this morning, so you know what? Forget I even called.”
“Did you like it, Snap?” I lowered my voice, because that’s exactly what I’d do if she were in the room with me, and I could press my mouth against her ear. Breathe her in. Listen to her breath hitch to a tremulous halt. “Tell me you liked it.”
There was a heavy beat of silence. “What?”
“What was your favorite item? The sunglasses? Do yourself a favor and try the Alka Seltzer before anything else. I know it’s gross, but I swear by that shit after a night of hard drinking. Then maybe go for a few crackers to soak up the acid in the stomach, and a banana for some much-needed potassium. I know you don’t like Gatorade, but it’s probably better for you than just pure water, though you should carry that Fiji bottle around with you today as well. Oh, and if you’ve got a problem with any of this, I want you to know my door is always open for you, so feel free to come and find me. I’d fucking love that.”
“You…” She couldn’t seem to find her voice. “It was you ?”
“Oh, and before I forget, you should probably wear a turtleneck today.”
“Wait, what? A turtleneck? Why?”
“You were so soft and sweet last night, I couldn’t resist. Your hair would probably cover my mark, but unless you want to show it off, a turtleneck is the only foolproof way to keep that mark just between us. And for now, just between us is how it has to be.” With that, I hung up and headed out.
I had to find out all about Olive and her big brother Red Flag.